Restless Minds
by SadGhost
Summary: Jonathan has kidnapped his sister and as both Morgenstern siblings struggle to sort out their feelings for one another, Clary realizes that her brother isn't the person she believes him to be.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Please R&amp;R because this is pretty much my first story and I've been wanting to write something for a long time but couldn't figure out how to start it so any critique you have will be greatly appreciated! I'm kind of stuck on where this should go. Should I make it a one-shot or several chapters? **

He rolls over, further entangling himself in his duvet covers. He thrashes about for several more minutes before finally giving up. He stands, stretches and wanders into the bathroom. Standing over the sink, he splashes water over his face, hoping that it would clear his restless mind. Pale fingers grasp the edges of the cold marble counter. He grips the edges so hard that his veins become visible and he stares, transfixed. His head slowly rises to stare at himself in the mirror. His silvery-blonde hair clings to his forehead from the sweat that drenches it. Shaking his head vigorously, he presses his palms to his temple. _I can't take it anymore. _The pressure at his temples increases as his breathing quickens and his resolve cracks. _What the fuck is wrong with me? _Glass breaks over the countertops, slivers of it embed themselves in his knuckles but it seems he doesn't notice. He's mesmerized by the black blood staining his knuckles and oozing down his arms. _It's funny how the one thing that defines everyone is the one thing that makes them fear me. _His thoughts cloud over as a single high-pitched voice breaks through his reverie. Her voice is panicked, alarmed and melodious. He lets his eyes shut as he voice pours over his being. She takes one look at him and then at the remains of the mirror before rushing over, scrambling to find a way to stop the bleeding. _There she is ladies and gentlemen, the girl that consumes my every thought at every moment of every day. _His sister, Clarissa Morgenstern.

I knew Sebastian had a high-pain tolerance, the scars on his person speak to that, but I don't think it was _self-inflicted_. When I get into the bathroom, his blood already coats the counters and there are several pieces of glass embedded into his knuckles. _What was he thinking? _I finally reach him, and he stands there, not at all alarmed at his current predicament. In fact, his eyes are closed as though he's hearing beautiful music and that's the only way to preserve it. I grab the nearest towel and in an effort to staunch the bleeding, I wrap his hand in it. In the time it took him to do this and for me to get into his room, I hadn't noticed the piece of glass he's holding in his hand. I pry it from his fingers and it falls to the floor, shattering into a million and one smaller pieces. I press the cloth even harder into his hand before I drag him over to the sink; turning on the water, I try to rinse the blood off. The cut isn't what's bothering me, it's the blackish fluid that's Sebastian's blood. _Demon blood _my mind whispers over and over again, _Shut up. _I shake my head and try to focus on the task at hand. After rinsing off the cut, I try to figure out what to do next. I leave his hands in the sink while rummaging around in hopes of finding a First Aid kit. Giving a relieved sigh, I grab one from under the sink and sit it atop the broken glass on the countertop. I risk a quick glance up at his face and I'm surprised to see that his eyes are open and following my every move. _I don't understand why he would do this. I don't understand him at all. _"Do you have a needle?" I ask him absentmindedly. He shakes his head, offering me no answer. I do my best to quell the rising anger in my throat. _I don't even have to be helping this sorry asshole. He kidnapped me, keeping me here in this prison of an apartment. All because of what? Does he honestly think I'll forgive him for what he did to Luke? Or to Max? _Little Max Lightwood. A couple of months ago the Shadowhunter capital, Idris, was invaded by none other than Jonathan, my brother. Using his own blood, he managed to take down the wards of the city, allowing for hundreds, if not thousands, of demons to cross into the Glass City. Jonathan, posing as the Lightwood's cousin, Sebastian Verlac, broke into the Lightwoods' home, looking for me. In this process, Max had wandered right into Jonathan's path, mistaking him for his cousin. Max asked one too many questions and Jonathan/Sebastian hit him and the force of the blow killed him. He was only 9. I hadn't realized that in remembering this, I stopped paying attention to what I was doing. Looking down, I see that my nails were digging into his hand with the force of the memory. Glancing up quickly, I see that his facial expression has become curious. "Go sit down, I'll be right there." I tell him. A few seconds later, he walks stiffly over to the edge of the tub and takes a seat. Following suit, I grab the kit and, after rummaging around in his medicine cabinet, a small needle. "Hand, now." He gives me his hands and I can't help but think, _they don't look like a killer's hands_. He has long fingers, like a pianist, that are rough and dry to the touch. The similarities he and Jace share are still unnerving. _Jace. _I feel my heart twinge. _No use in thinking about him now. _I clear my thoughts and proceed to start stitching his hand up.

I don't know how long we sit there in silence as I stitch up his cuts. I hardly notice it when he does speak. "Why don't use just use an _iratze? _It would go much quicker." It takes me a couple of seconds to process the question. "Because if you're going to act like a mundane, you might as well heal like one." I respond, irritated. It doesn't seem to faze him and he stares at me while I finish up the stitches. Taking a warm cloth, I gently rub it over the smaller, shallower cuts. "The next time you decide to self-harm, leave me out of it." And with that, I stand and leave the bathroom. As I turn to leave, I glance at Sebastian's face. The expression is one of extreme self-loathing and infinite loneliness. _Karma's a bitch, ain't she?  
_

I can't go back to sleep after dealing with Sebastian. _Why did he look so sad? I mean, not sad as in as I just lost a puppy or saw a car accident, but the kind of sad achieved from spending every moment of your life alone. The kind of sad achieved by not fitting in with the people around you. The kind of sad achieved by being misunderstood. _I bolt upright in the bed. _Sebastian? Misunderstood? That doesn't seem right. _But there was also that self-loathing look. _It's like he's hating himself for being human. _I frown. _Everyone's always told him he wasn't so it wouldn't seem surprising if he finds that as a weakness. _I roll my eyes. _He finds everything a weakness. Even something remotely human. Which is what makes him so dangerous. _I sigh and roll back over on my side and then it hits me. That's his biggest flaw. He's constantly battling his nature and because of that, there's a chink in his armor. Valentine had too little humanity but Sebastian has too much. This revelation really makes me think and re-think everything I thought I knew about my brother. _He was just following orders from Valentine like he always did. He was the perfect son. So perfect he's flawed and broken just like the rest of us. _I inhale deeply and lay there for a while. I get up and pace the tiny room trying to figure out what the hell all of it meant. _How can he go from being the enemy to someone I pity so quickly?_


	2. Chapter 2

_Restless Minds_

_by SadGhost_

_Chapter 2_

**A/N: SORRY, I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THIS STORY UNTIL A FEW DAYS AGO. **

**Clary's POV**

_Get up, it's not like you were going to fall asleep._ Sliding my feet off the side of the bed, I stand and head over to the door, pausing. _He's out doing whatever he does all-day and I won't be long. _Convinced that I was indeed alone in the apartment, I step into the hallway.

My bare feet pad softly on the cool tiled floors. It's a short walk to the small kitchen and an even shorter one to the fridge. I open it to see that Sebastian has gone grocery shopping. _What the hell? There's enough food in here to feed a small army. _I pull out a package of bacon. _Why do we need so much food? I don't think Sebastian even eats and I certainly don't eat that much. _Frowning, I stare down at the package of bacon I grabbed, deciding that that's not what I wanted. Instead, I reach for a package of sliced fruit. I stand there for a few more minutes, grabbing various items to make an omelet. _I guess I do eat a lot..kinda. _Turning around, I drop them all on the counter and then go searching for the cookware. I go searching the cupboards and finally, my fingers grasp the edges of a skillet, pulling it out. I turn around and have a mini-heart attack-Sebastian is leaning against the doorway.

**Sebastian's POV **

"Jesus-can you make a sound or something?!" She exclaims angrily. I stare at her for a few seconds, taking in the disheveled hair, the torn sleep shirt and the annoyed expression on her face. _Beautiful. _She starts cracking eggs, pouring them into the bowl she set out. Minutes pass and it becomes clear that she's got nothing to say. "So, we're gonna play this game? Seems quite childish." I walk towards the counter and grab a slice of mango from the container. Popping into my mouth, I hum. _It's been a while since I ate something this sweet. _I note how Clary watches me out the corner of her eye but still doesn't say anything.

I don't know how long we stand there, not speaking. Minutes stretched into hours and the hours into eternity. Finally, she sighs deeply and I see some of the tension leave her shoulders.

"It must be hard," she starts. "Being two people and all." _What? _I must've looked confused because she goes on to explain. "Sebastian and Jonathan Morgenstern. The boy you are and the one you want to be," She states simply. I scoff.

"I am and will continue to be one person, little sister. It'd do you do you some good to remember that," I say calmly.

"I know exactly who you are and what you're capable of," she fixes me with a hard stare. "Jonathan." I raise my eyebrows, as if asking her where this is going. "I don't know what you think about yourself but all I know is that you're family, whether I like it or not. I also know all this killing and hatred and-" she stops for a second, gathering her thoughts, "and, _racism_, for lack of a better word, isn't my brother. Whatever Valentine did to you as a child-" I feel my skin tighten and my body tense.

"Valentine raised me to be a soldier. A Shadowhunter."

"Valentine raised you to be a killer! Soldiers kill those who've done something wrong, and killers kill innocent, unarmed people."

" '_Innocent?_' You think these people are _innocent?!_" I slam my hands down on the counter, making her jump. "These _innocents_," I spit out, "are the same men and women that ostracized my father for taking a stand."

"They ostracized him for being wrong! You think all his talk of "cleansing the bloodlines" was out of the kindness of his heart? That man was a fucking psychopath and he killed to serve his own twisted purposes. And somehow, that sick bastard did the same to you." She points the knife she had been cutting mushrooms with at me, at my chest. "You just stand there and defend him like he's some kind of God." She scoffs and throws the mushrooms into the skillet.

"Ever since I learned that I had a brother, all I wanted to do was meet you. And then the truth set in when I realized that I would never have that chance, not with the way things have been going. I would never get to grow up with you, see you happy. Just as you will never see me or my mother ever be happy." A single tear falls down her cheek and I resist the urge to reach over and cup her face in my hands. "I don't know or care what Valentine told you about our mother, Jocelyn, but whatever it was, it's not true. You don't have to hate her." She looks up at me with pleading eyes. _If only I believed that. _

"She never came back," I say simply. "She left me." My jaw twitched as I felt the familiar pang of sadness trying to find a grip in my consciousness but, I push it back, finding solace in my anger. "She left me at his will, defenseless."

"No. She thought you and Valentine both died in the fire that burned down the Manor. She didn't leave you, Jona-" Suddenly, the knife she's holding clamors to the floor as I grab her by the front of her nightshirt and push her up against the wall.


End file.
